


You Are My Sunshine

by for_the_love_of_tony



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mutual Pining, Non-Graphic Violence, Pre-Relationship, Protective Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:23:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22580161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_the_love_of_tony/pseuds/for_the_love_of_tony
Summary: It happens so fast. Like a blink, a breath, a fraction of a second. You don’t see it coming. How could you? Unexpected. And fast, so fucking fast. And just like that. In nothing more than a moment. A life is changed forever.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	1. In The Blink Of An Eye

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a prompt I saw about Person A being hurt and singing "You Are My Sunshine" to Person B to comfort them. So, this happened. This chapter is Steve's POV.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It happens so fast. Like a blink, a breath, a fraction of a second. You don’t see it coming. How could you? Unexpected. And fast, so fucking fast. And just like that. In nothing more than a moment. A life is changed forever.

It happens so fast. Like a blink, a breath, a fraction of a second. You don’t see it coming. How could you? Unexpected. And fast, so fucking fast. And just like that. In nothing more than a moment. A life is changed forever.

You drag him back into the building you just walked out of. Blood is already soaking his three piece suit, Tom Ford he was careful to remind you as you handed him a coffee just minutes ago. The cup is on the ground outside now, it’s contents mingling with the blood he left there. Scarlett red and espresso brown swirling down the drains of the New York City streets.

It was as normal morning as any. You met just inside the door, extending your hand with the coffee. He took it with only a seconds hesitation, he let you hand him things now from time to time.

“Slow down there, Spangles. This is a Tom Ford." He smoothed the lapel of his suit. "Also, if this isn’t an Iced Americano, you’re ruining a perfectly good punchline.”

You’re used to it by now. It used to make you bristle, the way he never seemed to be appreciative of anything. You know better now. He says thank you in other ways. Not in words but in gestures. You're used to his casual sarcasm and constant joking and sometimes you even laugh along. So you smile and shake your head and walk out the door, side by side.

The gun shots sound as soon as your feet hit the pavement and your hackles raise immediately. You search for the shooter but in another second, it’s the furthest thing from your mind. Because the man who was just walking by your side, talking a mile a minute, is silent. And falling to the ground. You snap back to reality and catch him just before he hits. Every other thought besides the utter need to get the other man to safety vacates your head as you drag him back into the building.

You count three separate entry wounds and note that his chest is already covered in sticky, ruby red blood. You’re shouting, panicking, it’s not a pretty sight. Captain America, always calm, always in control. You wait until you know someone is on the phone with emergency services before your turn your attention back to the man you gingerly placed on the ground moments ago.

A moment. That’s all it was. A second you let your guard down. That’s all it took. The blood is collecting on the ground. So fast. So damn fast. But you should have been faster.

You crouch beside him, his eyes are closed but he seems to sense your presence and they open. He smiles? It’s tiny but it’s there.

“It’s going to be fine, Tony. The ambulance will be here soon.”

He reaches his blood stained hand out to you. What else is there to do? You take it.

“Take a breath Cap. You look like you’re going pass out.”

He’s comforting you? He’s got three bullets in his chest and you look bad enough that he thinks he has to comfort you? Jesus.

People are gathering now but they keep their distance. Only a few more minutes and the ambulance will be here. He’s shaking and already looking a little paler. You move on instinct, sit beside him and pull his torso into your lap.

“Want me to sing you a song?”

His tone is joking but he sputters after he says this and coughs up a little blood. What the fuck is taking the ambulance so long? You probably could have ran him to the hospital by now.

“You are my sunshine...”

Jesus Christ, he’s actually singing. It’s weak and quiet but the edges of his lips are turned into the faintest smile. And damn it all if it doesn’t make you feel a little better.

“My only sunshine...”

You calm a little more. If he’s singing, he’s still breathing. You’ll humor him, go along with it. You stare down at him, feeling the familiar fondness tugging at your heart. God, you love him. You’ve never said it. Some days you act like you don’t even like him. But you love him, you do.

“You make me happy when skies are grey...”

You push a sweaty strand of hair away from his eyes. They’re a little farther way, a little glassy. It’s only been a few minutes since the call was placed. Realistically, you know that. But it feels like it’s been hours of waiting. With what seems like the last of the strength he has, he reaches that blood stained hand to your face and brushes away a tear you hadn’t even realized was there. You feel the smear of warm blood he leaves across your cheek.

“You’ll..never know...dear..how much..I love..you...”

This line is a struggle, breaths coming shorter and harder. You want to tell him to stop. To save his breath but you can’t find your voice. Where the FUCK is that ambulance?

“I do, you know. I love you, Steve.”

This is said, not sung and once again, you can’t speak. The words are followed by a gasp and then...nothing. Silence. Desperate, utter, heartbreaking silence.

You are frozen again. Ice cold. He loved..loves you? He’s unmoving, eyes fixed and vacant. All the life behind them, gone.

And then it happens. So fast. The ambulance is there. They sweep him away from you. Place him on a stretcher, start CPR, attend to his wounds the best they can. They start to leave with him and only then do you find your feet. Jumping to follow as they wheel him to the waiting vehicle.

A moment. It only took one single moment. And a life is changed. But not just his life. Your life. The life of everyone who knows him. Who loves him. So many lives laid to waste by a sudden act of violence. The thought is enough to make you dizzy. It hasn’t been this hard to breath since the last asthma attack you had. All those years ago.

There’s no room for you but they shout which hospital they’ll take him to. The door close abruptly in your face and you lay a hand on them, just before they speed down the road.

A plea. A quiet prayer to anyone or anything that may be listening. Don’t let this be your last moment with him. Don’t let him go without him knowing.

You love him too. You do. You love him for all that he is and all that he is not. You love his rough edges and his flaws. And it isn’t until this moment that you finally realize just how in love with him you really are.

It only took a moment.

You repeat it over and over again as you watch the ambulance fade into the horizon.

“Please don’t take my sunshine away...”


	2. In A Breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same scene as Chapter 1 but told in Tony's POV

It's funny how a moment can change so much. Or it would be if it weren't so scary. In an instant. In the time it takes to draw in a breath and let it out. The world around you shifts, time slows and everything changes. And you never see it coming. But it comes. Faster than a train speeding down the tracks. And life will never be the same.

You adjust the glasses on your face as you enter the elevator. He'll be early, of course, he always is, but you're ready for him this time. J told you that he left the building earlier and you knew exactly why. It's silly really, to feel this way about a cup of coffee. He's always up early anyway. By the time you've entered the land of the living, he's done with his workout, showered and dressed and back out the door.

You could show him how to use the coffee machine but it's admittedly over complicated and obscenely expensive and it makes a great cup of joe but you'd much rather drink the swill he brings you. Because its not about the fact that the coffee he brings you is utter crap, it's the gesture that matters. It's the fact that he thought of you at all.

Your relationship with him has definitely improved from the first disastrous meeting. Although it definitely hasn't progressed as far as you would like. You're not pressing your luck. You're happy to call him your friend if that's all you'll ever be. And you'll try your damn best to not be distracted by ocean blue eyes and full pink lips during debriefing. 

You exit the elevator as you see him come through the door. You almost shed a tear of relief when you see the cup he’s holding today. Because you know that place and their coffee is actually a damn gift from god and you wonder how and why he changed it up. But you don’t let yourself think about it too long. He extends his hand as he reaches you and you only hesitate for a beat. Honestly, you’d take literally anything he has to offer.

“Watch it, Spangles. This is a Tom Ford.” You smooth the lapel of your suit with a grin. The name means nothing to him, you know but you hope your tone conveys the joke. “Also, if this isn’t an Iced Americano, you’re really wasting a good punchline.”

It’s a relief to see how he reacts to your humor now. He used to visibly stiffen when you’d tease him or come up with a new nickname. You tried to rein it in but you would inevitably slip up from time to time. Eventually he realized it wasn’t a personal attack and was simply how you treated people that you truly liked.

Now he just smiles and shakes his head at you, possibly fondly even. You match his steps and you walk out the doors, side by side.

You hear the shots before you feel them. One, two, three. The air punched out of your lungs in an instant. It takes a moment before realization hits, another second before you look down. And then you see your chest blooming bright red. The coffee cup slips from your fingers and you feel yourself begin to fall.

But you never hit the ground because strong arms scoop you up and you’re being dragged back through the door you just exited. You imagine it must take a lot of effort for someone as strong as him to handle you so gently.

You hear his voice as he shouts instructions to the people milling around. Full Cap mode is what you would normally call it. You let your eyes close for a moment and try to focus on just his voice and not on how panicked he sounds. And then you hear him crouch down beside you so you force yourself to open your eyes and try to focus on him.

You smile ever so slightly. You can’t help it. His eyes are filled with concern and worry but he’s still so damn beautiful.

“It’s gonna be fine, Tony. The ambulance will be here soon.”

You know that realistically you’re the only one in any real danger here. But god, he looks so stricken. And by the look on his face, it’s as bad as it seems, maybe worse. So you reach out your hand and you try to ignore that it’s stained crimson with your own blood. Relief washes over you when he accepts it.

“Take a breath Cap. You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

His eyes go wide when you say this and you realize then just how ridiculous it must seem. You trying to comfort him while you’re literally bleeding out on the floor of the lobby of the building you own. It’s ironic really, all the security that money could buy, take a step out the door and get mowed down.

People are starting to gather. You don’t blame them. It must be a sight. He moves closer now and pulls you into his lap. You feel yourself shaking and the temperature feels like it’s dropping. The warmth emitting from him is a comfort and your let yourself sink into him.

“Want me to sing you a song?”

You don’t know why you ask really. Maybe you want to comfort him, maybe yourself. Maybe you just want to lighten the mood. Or it could just be you’re not thinking quite clearly. You’ve lost a lot of blood after all. His expression is still incredulous but he doesn’t answer so you take that as all the confirmation you need.

“You are my sunshine...”

Your voice is weak even to your own ears. But you notice that he does seem to calm some as you begin and that’s all the motivation you need to continue.

“My only sunshine..”

You can’t help but smile a little because he’s completely focused on you. It’s intense and a little too much. Because the way he’s looking at you makes that familiar longing come straight to the surface. That pining feeling you’re usually so successful in shoving deep down inside, pushing right up against your skin, begging to be released.

“You make me happy when skies are grey...”

You feel him brush a stray piece of hair from across your forehead and shiver under his touch. Everything seems a little out of focus, his face blurring around the edges. But still so beautiful. It’s an effort but you manage to reach up and brush the tear from his cheek. You can’t help but notice the steak of blood it leaves behind.

“You’ll never know dear...how much...I love you...”

It’s harder to get that last line out. Breathing is becoming more and more difficult. You can feel each breath getting harder, the panic begins to set in as this realization hit. This could be it. You try to memorize every part of his face. You don’t want to go but if this is your last view, at least it’s a nice one. But before you go, you have to get it out. It isn’t fair, it’s cruel really but you can’t help yourself. You’ve always been a little selfish.

“I do, you know. I love you, Steve.”

You have a moment to register the complete shock on his handsome face before everything begins to grey out. It feels like falling, like everything is getting farther and farther away.

And they’re right and wrong when they say your life flashes before your eyes the moment you die. Because you don’t see your life from beginning to end. You see him.

The day you met to the day you fell from the sky to the day you realized you fell for him to your coffee dates that weren’t really dates to movie nights with the team to every insignificant and casual conversation you’ve ever had. You see it all. And then...nothing.


	3. Wake Me Up

You’re not sure how long you’ve been out, just that your chest hurts in a way it hasn’t since that first day in Afghanistan. All you really know right now is that the incessant beeping is slowly driving you insane. You try to open your eyes but your eyelids feel much to heavy. You will your limbs to move but they don’t seem to be listening at the moment either. You let out a groan but you’re not sure if it was only in you head.

Panic is starting to win, it all feels a little off but a little too familiar. You’re used to the pressure in your chest, it never really went away. But the pain you feel now, it’s too fresh, too present, too urgent to ignore. Your muster all the will you have left to force your eyes to open, cursing silently the entire time.

But when you open your eyes, you’re in a sterile, white hospital room, not a dark, dank cave. You’re attached to monitors and IVs, not a car battery. And Yinsen isn’t there but someone is, you realize by the gentle breathing you hear to your left. 

Turning your head comes with great effort and you realize just how stiff all your joints feel. Maybe just the effects of aging or maybe you’ve been out for longer than your realize. You see the blonde hair first. He’s pulled up as close to the hospital bed as his knees will allow. His arms are crossed on the bed rail with his head resting on them. He can’t possibly be comfortable but exhaustion seems to have won out. 

It’s another few minutes before everything comes back. It doesn’t rush in but rather slowly filters back into the forefront of your mind. You remember your hands brushing as he passed you the coffee he brought you. You remember it was the good kind, from your favorite coffee shop. You also remember you never got to take a sip. 

The impact of the bullets come back next. You remember how they felt, how they threw you back, your foot in the air, mid step. You remember gentle hands and a soothing voice. And your remember, oh god, did you really sing to him? And, oh fuck, did you really tell him you loved him?

You could definitely pass it off as a moment of panic, you were dying after all. Dying people say and do crazy things, do they not? But, you turn to look at him again, why is he here? You’d expect Rhodey or Pepper, maybe even Nat but Steve would be the last person you’d expect to hold vigil at your bedside. 

You’re struck with the sudden want to reach out your hand and touch. You want to run your fingers through his golden hair but you stop yourself. Instead you tap his shoulder softly, his head snaps up quicker than you expect and you jump as well.

“Sorry, sorry.” You gasp out and find your throat feels raw and scratchy.

“Oh,Tony!” If the relief weren’t evident in his voice, it’s written all over his scruffy face. You infer that it’s been days since he’s shaved. 

“How long?” You manage to croak our although you know now it was much more than just a couple hours.

“Six days.” He answers quickly, “It was touch and go at first. They did two surgeries. You died, Tony. You died for 4 minutes.” He’s quiet for a minute and turns his head, why, you’re not sure. He looks back after a moment. 

“They kept you in a medically induced coma for the first five days before they stared weaning you off of the medication. There was a breathing tube in your throat that they took out last night so they said your throat might hurt for a little while. Um, I don’t really remember much else, there was a lot more medical stuff. Oh! I should get the doctor, or the nurse, let them know you’re awake. And they can explain...” he’s already getting to his feet.

“Wait! ‘m fine. Don’ go.” You only realize how pathetic it sounds once it’s already left your lips and it’s too late to take back. Can’t blame that one one dying. Nor can you blame it for your hand that’s stretched out towards him. 

And nothing in your vast genius can explain him actually taking your hand as he sits back down. Maybe he feels sorry for your or something equally as pitiful but the warmth from his hand around yours is comforting. And you’ll take it, no matter the why. 

The quiet between you doesn’t feel awkward but it does feel charged with something you can’t quite name. Your hand in his feels a little too natural. You try to slip it out oh his grasp but to your surprise, he grips tighter. Your eyes snap up to meet his, crystal sky blue that you realize how easily your could lose yourself in. If you let yourself do those kind of things.

“You died.” He says it again. “Tony! You were fucking dead.”

“Cap, language.” You really can’t help yourself.

“You died, Tony! I think I’m allowed to curse once or twice.”

“Well, shit, I died.” He looks at you. “If you can use my dying as an excuse to cuss then I sure the fuck can too.”

And then he’s laughing and you are too. It starts a little too loud, a little too manic but it slows quickly into a quiet chuckle and then silence.

“I died.”

“Yeah, do you remember right before? Do you remember what you said or did?”

You internally wince because of course you do but you had hoped he would give you a pass and not bring it up. No such luck.

“I sang you a song.”

“You did.”

“And then I um, might have said something, I really don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember?” And there was something sad in his tone, something distinctly disappointed. You become acutely aware that your hand is still wrapped in his.

“I mean, I might have told you I loved you.” His eyes meet yours again and your mouth goes dry but it’s unclear if it’s because of the sore throat or the intensity of his stare.

“Did you mean it?”

You could lie. You’re a very good liar. You’ve had years of practice. A lifetime of denying feelings or making them up to get what you want. But his bright, azure eyes are so open and pleading, you’re not sure you could lie, even if you wanted to.

“Yeah.” 

There no use in explaining or saying any more than that. It’s the truth and it’s out there and he’s far too quiet. And you’re sure you misread the whole situation. This wasn’t what he expected or wanted. His face is carefully blank and your chest hurts again for an entirely different reason. The moment seems to stretch for an eternity. 

“I love you, too.” Its said in a rush, the words stumbling over each other and he’s squeezing your hand, just a tad painfully. But the look in his eyes makes it all worth it, the blinding grin that stretches across his perfect lips. Lips that you imagine you might get to kiss sometime very soon. You return his hopeful smile.

But then you realize the pain in your chest is increasing. You place your free hand against it and his eyes fill with worry. Your own eyes narrow as the pain ramps up even further, your mouth opens but nothing comes out. Your heart monitor is going wild and you hear, rather than see the commotion as the staff rush into the room.

“Tony!” You hear his panicked voice once more and then, the dark consumes you.


End file.
